Public Health
Sivadian public health officers join forces with the Demarian Militia and the crews of GMF Athena and the Jackals to respond to a crisis on Demaria. 'Landing Pad ' ---- A large area of ground has been flattened out and filled with thickly poured ferrocrete; yellow lines and blinking lights mark off landing pads, taxi lanes, and runways. A large building that serves as the small spaceport's terminal sits at the edge of the area, opposite the tall flight traffic control tower. Service crews stand by to help people through the decontamination corridor. To the west, far past the outskirts of the spaceport, lies the blunt Stubtooth Mountains. ---- Everyone is over by the Athena; all are clad in environment suits save for Silvereye, who is far too fashionable for that sort of thing. ~You mean like it's a fake, like what happened on Sivad?~ Voliarin asks. ~I saw a movie once about when the bad guys would make a virus and infect people with it then control the cure.~ he ponders this a couple more moments, ~Well, it wasn't a really good movie come to think of it.~ the aura turning to a feint dark blue. Cruyer trudges down the Athena's boarding ramp wearing a bright orange Sivadian PHS hazmat suit and finding that it restricts his mobility more than the manufacturer claims it will. The fat orange pulls up beside Marlan, Crelsk alongside him. "So, we're going tounge swabbing?" Boomer ask, crossing his arms over his chest. He turns briefly to study Voliarin, clear visor concealing his amused expression only slightly. Marlan turns towards Boomer, "Effectively...da." she raises her head to address Voliarin and sees Cruyer coming down from the Athena, "We need to establish a base of operations on the planet. Then put down procedures for testing the population. Teams need to be established, some folks need to work in the lab while others work the field taking samples." Table for two, please. Harmony's far too fashionable to be wearing the drab standard environmental suit. Fat chance. No, this princess diva's all about customization and personal tailor fitting. She klunks down the ramp of the Jackal decked to the nines in a suit of subtle pink, and embellished with glittering studs. Mika's helmeted head turns toward Marlan and Silvereye. "What's th' bes' thing th' public can do t'prevent infection?" she asks. "Assumin' this ain't some grand ol' 'oax, bollocks." Cruyer nods inside his suit -- you wouldn't be able to see it unless you can see in his visor. "Admiral Lind has some administrative matters he needs to address -- he said he puts full faith in your ability to handle this situation," he says through the suit's speaker. A statement of support from the Minister himself, however, is not forthcoming. *Kssh*Stay away from each other.*Kssh* Boomer saids, about as helpful as helpful can be. The fat man turns his gaze to the approaching Harmony, and his comm crackles to life again. *Kssh*What the fuck. It's peaches-n-fuckin-cream.*Kssh* Marlan nods to Cruyer and turns, addressing Silvereye now, "Silver, if we have the Imperator's support we'd like to get started immediately, da. We need to hold a meeting, establish protocol and procedure. I'd like you to attend." She hesitates a minute and then her helmet turns towards Mika before returning to Silvereye, "She says they've been hired by Demaria to work on this problem. If thats so and we can come to an agreement that as medical personnel we're heading this operation i'd be happy for her to join us as well, as a representative of her staff and a member of the team." Silvereye glances past Marlan as Cruyer emerges, watching the man approach her with an interested twitch of his tail. "Again I have to suggest the Medical Center. People will be familiar with the location and we can provide the necessary medical supplies. As for the Jackal if you can find a use for them then by all means. And yes, if the Imperator has not assented yet he will." The Longclaw offers to Marlan and Cruyer. "It's a better option than the landing pad. The militia will be conducting containment operations for the duration of this crisis so it's still going to be busy here." He finishes, glancing at Mika nd keeping his posture. "There is an advisory for people to stay in their homes. That's about all we can do." Marlan nods at Silvereye, "Very well." she turns to Mika, "We'll be organizing in Meeting Hall 1 at the Medical Center, you and your crew are invited to join us." she turns to Silvereye, "I expect to see you there as well, da." that said she turns, "Did you get that Counciller Cruyer?" Crelsk's visor swivels to look at Harmony as Boomer comments. "...Unorthodox," the Grimlahdi rumbles to Boomer. "Appearance is not a priority, especially in such a situation as this." he snorts unapprovingly, and looks toward Marlan, listening to her speak. Cruyer nods his assent, then there is a brief pause, and then he says, realizing that he might not have been clear, "Yes, Captain." Marlan regards the quickly growing group on the Landing Pad, "PHS and Athena crew, you've got 10 minutes to be at the medical center with your datapadds. Boomer, make sure all the crew is present. Dr. Anorelezuixal, please do the same for the PHS Officers on board." *Kssh*It's a fuckin' eyesore is what it is.*Kssh* The friendly orange responds to Crelsk, turning back to Marlan. *Kssh*Whoever goes out collecting sample should work in two. Safer, right?*Kssh* Boomer finishes, nodding at Marlan's command. *Kssh*A'ight captain.*Kssh* Voliarin begins to make some more distance between himself and the Athena itself. He looks over towards the Centauran, ~If you're going back into the ship, you wouldn't mind getting my notebook, would you?~ ~As you wish, Captain Ranix,~ emites Anorelezuixal. It also emits a slight bit of emotional pride that Marlan, with her biped speach center, was able to properly pronounce his name. A marginal amount of appreciation leaks out of its mind. ~No, I would not mind,~ adds Anorel as Voliarin emits. ~Where is it?~ ~It should be next to my case of medical instruments I brought along.~ Voliarin explains. ~Don't worry, I don't need the equipment, and I don't want it to get contaminated else I'll have to order another kit from La Terre or Sivad.~ Cruyer is carrying a light plastic bag as a sort of briefcase and is ready to go. He waits near Marlan. "Which way is the hospital?" he asks. Anorelezuixal floats up to the airlock of the Athena and vanishes inside to both gather up any stray PHS doctors and get the Vollistan's datapad. "I can arrange for transportation." Silvereye replies to Marlan and Cruyer, large eyes looking down on the latter. "Walking through the streets is a little impractical." He pauses, "You are...the minister? Cruyer sounds familiar." As soon as she can get a word in, the Jackal's captain replies, "I'll 'ssist D'maria 'owever I can. But I ain't runnin' all over th' goddamned galaxy unless I got a clear shot at Volari's ugly mug." Marlan turns, "No ones asking you to join the PHS, just to assist here if thats what you want, da." she tells Mika before responding to Silvereye, "Arrannging transportation would be appreciated, da." "Geoffrey Cruyer, His Majesty's Minister for Health," adds Cruyer helpfully in Silvereye's direction. "I'm here for political support but I shall try to stay out of the way until I'm needed." As Mika speaks, the minister's expression changes... where has he heard that voice before? "Longclaw Silvereye Paintedheart. In addition to my militia duties I also serve as New Alhira's Ambassador to the OATO." The Demarian replies to Cruyer, inclining his head slightly. He reaches into his jacket in order to retrieve a commlink, but before he flips the switch he looks to Mika. "Feel free to come along. We might figure something out." Then he turns the device on, speaking into it. "Command this is Longclaw Paintedheart. Our guests have arrived and we need transportation to the medical center." ~Youre notebook,~ Anorel says as it returns from the Athena, handing the paper book to the Vollistan. ~Captain Ranix, I have accounted for all PHS personnel except Dement.~ Voliarin takes the paper notebook, putting it so it is floating next to him, the suit making it a bit hard for him to handle much of anything. ~Going to go after Volari? Good luck. I'm sure you'll probably try and kill him. He's too strong for me to want to confront.~ As Silvereye turns his head towards Mika, the bundle of rags that is Whitestripe raises a cloth-bundled hand and waves it somewhat pointedly towards Silvereye. Otherwise, he stays as a lump. *Kssh*I forgot to count.*Kssh* Boomer saids, turning to Crelsk. One. Marlan. Two. Ren. Three. Himself. Four. *Kssh*Four Athena crew members ready, ma'm.*Kssh* Marlan remains where she stands, waiting for transportation to arrive. Mika just stands there, waiting, shifting weight from one leg to the other. She contributes nothing more to the conversation, but her head rolls from one side to the other. What everyone can't see behind her visor are the green eyes rolling with it. Only a few minutes after a muffled 'acknowledged' comes from Silvereye's commlink a small caravan of military transports emerges from the hangar. Their obvious purpose is to move troops, but it is equally obvious that they are moving towards the Athena. The Longclaw who called them catches Whitestripe's gesture, flicking an ear in his direction as a 'wait a moment' gesture before turning to Marlan. "They'll take you to the Medical Center and I'll be right behind. But if you'll excuse me there's something I have to take care of very quickly." He pockets his commlink, walking briskly towards Whitestripe. Cruyer hops into the lead troop transport. After all, he is the minister. He looks over his shoulder to make sure people are following. Marlan follows after Cruyer into the transport. Renkek Kashaan gets in the transport as well not bothering to dally long. Anorelezuixal floats after Cruyer and Marlan, somewhat confused as to why heavy armed transports are needed. Crelsk lumbers into the transport after Marlan. Boomer moves into another of the transport, sitting down, waiting for the ride. 'New Alhira Medical Center ' ---- Nothing had been stinted in the building of New Alhira's medical center. With ample stores and equipment, the wards are spacious enough to accomodate hundreds of patients in anticipation of the colony's future needs, while laid out to allow doctors and nurses maximum access in a minimum amount of time. With wings devoted to everything from pediatrics to emergency, the center is well-equipped to handle any case that may yet arise in the new capital. ---- Already the hospital staff has readied the room that the team will use to meet. Marlan nods to the staff, apparently somewhat known here and proceeds to the beforementioned room. In the center of the room is a large boardroom table, a 3d projector is built into the center of the table and the walls of the room are covered by large LCD screens linked to the rooms computer system. Voliarin walks into the room as well, notebook not too far behind him as he takes a seat near the far end of the table. Cruyer takes a seat to the immediate right of the head of the table, which he cedes to Marlan. He pulls a datapad and a large mint-green binder out of his bag. When he opens the binder, it is revealed to be full of laminated sheets and the title on the cover page is "PHS Contingency Planning Manual." Having done all this, he turns his attention to Marlan. Clomping along, Boomer makes do the best he can, making to sit down at the table to take part in the meeting. Crelsk takes a seat, shifting to allow his tail to hang over the chair edge. Anorelezuixal cannot physically 'sit' in a chair, so instead hover over one with its dangling tentacles just touching the chair's base. And trailing along behind everyone with a klump klump klump is Mika, apparently having some issues getting through the sliding glass door in that envirosuit. Mumbling and grumbling, she fusses her way on in, falling several paces behind the Athenauts and co. "We gotta wear these goddamned things'n 'ere?" she asks irritably, finding an empty seat and taking it. It gives a little bit under the weight. Marlan takes her place at the table, "I'd like to beign by apologizing for the biohazard suits. Until we knowhow exactly this virus is spread precautions must be taken. We will look at setting up a containment area where those staff that run no risk of having been contaminated can relax. Until that time however...yes. We will need to wear the containment suits even here, da." she motions to Cruyer, "Councillor, if you could fill us in on what we already know...then we can proceed form there, da." *Kssh* I got to pee *Kssh* Boomer saids, scratching at the suit. A pointless gesture. He turns his visor to Cruyer, waiting for the man's explanation. Before bringing everyone up to date, Cruyer notes, "The PHS may be able to lend you a proper biosuit -- it would be a little less clumsy." Then he looks down at his datapad. "Approximately twenty-four hours and thirty minutes ago there was an explosion in the skies above New Alhira. The Strategic Retreat, Mr. Volari's vessel, was subsequently seen leaving the area. If Naval Intelligence has any further information they have not given it to me, but it seems reasonable to assume that a contagion similar to that found on Waldheim may have been released." He turns back to Marlan to indicate that he is finished. Marlan looks to the others, "What that means for us is that we need to begin identifying possible ATRV cases here immediately, try to capture the life cycle of this virus so we can best determine how to treat it. This hospital will serve as our home base. It will be staffed around the clock by PHS physicians, that means we need to establish a roster. Simultaneously we'll need to begin getting patient samples. Unfortunately we have no field test for this virus as of yet. That means it'll take a field team with detailed notes taking samples that are analyzed back here by doctors in order to identify affected agents." Marlan smiles as Silvereye enters, "Just on time, da." she replies, humour in her tone. "I need volunteers to lead up the field teams. You'll be working closely with the Demarian Militia and may meet some resistance though most liekly it will be minimal." Out of force of habit, Mika kicks her chair back on two legs, aiming to prop her feet up. Except, well, the suit's heavy, and the chair just doesn't know how to deal, and things like weight and gravity make sure she tumbles backwards to the ground. Yelp. CRASH. "Ow." Her head, or rather, her helmet, pokes up over the tabletop after she flounders around on the ground a moment trying to right herself. "Why's th' blinkin' PHS decidin' what D'maria's gonna do?" she questions, contempt in her voice. "Y'don't come in 'ere an' bloody tell 'em 'ow s'gonna be, bollocks." *Kssh* I don't want her as a partner. *Kssh* Boomer saids, catching the tail end of Mika's fall from grace. Cruyer flips through his manual. "It says we should urge the population to remain in their homes and only notify officials if they begin to show symptoms," says Cruyer. "Seems sensible. Then it says that people should duct tape plastic sheets to their windows." He pauses, then checks the cover to make sure he's got the right manual. "Well, I don't know about that." He looks up at Mika's tirade and suddenly it all comes back to him. "Because unlike some people the Public Health Service is well known for its generosity," he replies haughtily, glaring at Mika. "Generosity's all fine an' good, y'blinkin' tea-tippin' tubeknocker, but what I'm tellin' YOU is that y'don't jus' march in 'ere an' tell D'maria 'ow s'gonna go down," Mika retorts, getting her chair situation settled again before she plops back into it. "THEY'LL tell YOU. So I'd suggest y'blinkin' get off this 'father-knows-best' routine, savvy?" "With all respect." Marlan begins facing Mika, "You have an option to be involved or not be involved. If you wish to be involved you will follow PHS mandates. If not.." she turns towards Silvereye, "If not then she can report directly to the Imperator and he can do with her as he wishes. The Imperator is also welcome to come here and express how he wishes things to be handle however considering my history with the Imperator and his family i feeel confident that he will place his trust in the actions i am now recommending." Silvereye can be observed handing off a small, sand colored rucksack to a medical technician outside the doors before he enters, ears perking immediately to take in the conversation. He bobs his snout to Marlan, then addresses the assembly as a whole. "Sorry I'm late. Something needed my attention." He then moves to an empty seat, listening all the way. He seats himself, holding up his paws as the rhetoric gets a little heated. "I'm sorry this meeting wasn't started with a Demarian representative. That's my fault. First, thank you for coming. We have adequate facilities and doctors for general medical problems but this isn't a routine problem." The Longclaw looks between the faces assembled. "So let's just calm down as to what the PHS will and will not do. We are treating this as a recommendation that will probably be approved and approved in a timely manner. Now. What're we talking about?" He looks between Cruyer and Marlan. Boomer can be heard snickering in his helmet, remaining silent for once. Renkek Kashaan listens from his seat and looks around briefly to those gathered. "Captain Ranix was briefing us on her... on her proposed plan of attack," replies Cruyer, choosing his words carefully. At Silvereye's request that everyone calm down, the loudmouthed privateer obligingly shuts her trap, glaring behind that darkened visor and doing her best to fold her arms in that clunky suit. "This hospital becomes the center of coordination efforts. It is manned around the clock and is used to analyze samples from possbly affected individals. Field eams are dispatched to take samples from citizens with the assistance of the Demarian militia. Those samples are then analyzed here by physicians. We make the creation of a field test ofr the virus a priority and any individuals found to be possible carriers are brought in for more tests." Marlan says to Silver. Individuals working WITH the PHS do so with the understanding that PHS guidelines are followed. If there's a problem with that." she shifts her gaze to Mika, "Those individuals can take up the issue with the Imperator and he can take whatever descicion he feels he needs to but if someone is to work with the PHS they must be willing to follow PHS guidelines. "The virus is supposedly passed by touching." Boomer reminds Marlan, leaning back in his seat, the legs creaking dangerously under not only his natural girth, but also that of his equipment. He doesn't seem to notice, though, continuing to speak. "Plus, I don't find the prospect of going out and swabbing seven foot tall cats with claws by myself. I suggest you put in a buddy system to follow for those out collecting samples." Silvereye slowly bobs his snout as Marlan speaks, large silver eyes focused on her. "I'm not familiar with PHS guidelines." The Longclaw replies once she's finished. "Is there anything in them that we should be aware of?" As Boomer speaks the Demarian turns towards him, eyes narrowing and ears tilting back. "The danger will be low. I'd rather the samples be taken by our medical staff here. That's one of the reasons I wanted you in transports. Much of our population is kits, and the group of you in your suits are absolutely terrifying. That's why I'm not wearing one." "Longclaw, with respect, although I know how frightening the suits may appear, I am not certain it would be wise to start assembling large parts of the citizenry in one place for testing. It might facilitate the spread of the disease -- if there is one," says Cruyer diplomatically. "I think it better that we go to them. I'm sure Captain Ranix would agree. As for PHS guidelines, the most important is the chain of command. Confusion at this stage could be terribly dangerous." Boomer grunts at Cruyer. "Didn't I just fuckin' say that?" The fat orange looks back to Silvereye. "Look, I'm not pleased with this suit either. I'm hot, sweaty, and really unsure of the success of this mission. The reason I suggested the buddy system is that us in our suits would make some bad mojo, and scared people do bad things. It can't be fucking helped." Mika seems to be trying to find some way to scratch at a particularly inconvenient part of her anatomy, but is hindered greatly. Grumble, squirm, growl, twist, wiggle, swear. "Right-- (confounded blighter)-- so who's th' bloody-- (Christ)-- go-to person fer th'... th'... goddamit! Argh. Fer th' whatsit, fer whatever we're doin'." "I'm sorry if I was unclear." Silvereye replies evenly. "I only meant that when dealing with the general population it might be best to have our people interact with the public while PHS agents, suits and all, stand by. We will ensure your safety with militia and medical personnel. We're not going to let you roam the streets alone." The Longclaw pauses, looking towards Cruyer. "The militia and its resources will at all times be under the command of the Imperator. If this plan is adopted certain elements will be loaned to you with orders to obey PHS commands. Medical personnel will also be assigned in a similar manner. Though if I might make a suggestion that will save us this grief?" Marlan nods, "Of course." Marlan replies, waiting for Silvereye's suggestions. Cruyer waits for Silvereye's contribution with baited breath. Mika tries to scratch her tits some more. "The militia compound which you probably passed on your way in is more or less centrally located in the city." Silvereye begins after Marlan's ok. "It might be best to start your work there. There's a good sized population of recruits and active duty personnel that live there and staff the militia offices. In this way the PHS people can get used to examining Demarians without having to work with civilians. It's a controlled environment where we can work everything out." The Longclaw pauses, looking towards Boomer. "And the compound is full of professionals. The risk to you will be as small as it can be." "Very good idea, da. I've dealt with Demarians before but you're right, its likely many of our doctors have not had the experience. So we begin with the militia compound. I want volunteers to coordinate the Field Agents efforst. Please keep in mind you will be working closely with the Demarian Militia and Demarian doctors. I say his so you have an understadnign of what it is you'll be dealing wiht." Cruyer nods inside his suit. "That sounds like a workable plan. Shall we set about implementing it?" he asks. He closes his binder to show that the discussion part of the meeting, as far as he's concerned, is over. Renkek Kashaan conisders and nods. He does look thoughtful "If I can get 1 or 2 more with me I'll help coordinate the field agents. Though for obvious reasons would prefer someone non-militia and non-medical as they'll be busy with other tasks." "I ain't got no problems workin' with th' militia," Mika volunteers with a lopsided grin at the big black felinoid. Of course, he can't see the expression, but her enthusiasm is evident in her tone. "'course, I don't know jack 'bout med'cine'r nothin', but I s'pose I coul' learn quick 'nough, bollocks." "I don't coordinate real well." Boomer saids, "I'm the janitor. I'll just go get my hands dirty and do whatever." Silvereye pulls out his datapadd, turning the device on and scribbling onto the screen with a stylus while those around him speak. A few moments of silence after Boomer speaks the Longclaw finishes, typing a message away. "In answer to an earlier question you had, about the go to guy...I've sent a message to command, which will find its way to the Imperator. I don't think we'll be starting tonight, but you'll have confirmation on the plan soon." The Longclaw informs them. "I have another question, though. What does the PHS plan for the scope of their operations? I trust they will be confined to New Alhira?" "I am not a doctor," Crelsk grunts, "But I will assist to the best of my ability." "Fine." Marlan responds, "For now Ren, Mika, you work together, da. Every field team should have a PHS officer, a physician and a member of the militia at the very least. I'll meet with you seperately to go over what tests we need run on individuals, da." she addresses Silvereye's question, "New Alhira and Waldheim for now, hopefully for the future as well, da. Right now we need to figure out a way to test for this virus. Then we can isolate cases and attempt to get a work up on the contagion." "The PHS acts only within the parameters set forward by the host government," replies Cruyer, sounding like he's quoting from some other manual. "As Captain Ranix says, we hope that it will not be necessary to proceed any further -- hopefully we will be able to contain the disease. But we will stay within the bounds you set for us." Not that Mika can tell who Ren is. She picks out a random person and nods. It's Crelsk. "A'ight," she agrees easily. "Somebody's gotta try'n keep tabs on th' blinkin' Strategic R'treat, though, r'yer all gonna be spreadin' yerselves mighty blinkin' thin real soon." "What do you expect us to do about it? Chase it through the streets and throw rocks at it." The fat orange responds to Mika's warning with typical sarcasm. Boomer adjust in his seat slightly. "God. I GOTTA fuckin' pee." He stands up from his seat, "Where's the bathroom?" Silvereye bobs his snout, apparently satisfied as he watches the screen of his datapadd. "Alright. I want to request that no PHS agent leaves the boundaries of the city for their own safety. This isn't like Waldheim, a lot of this planet is not under our control and it's possible that other population centers will be effected, at which point this becomes a whole new scenario." He pauses, turning towards Marlan. "I'll assign some good officers to help you get sorted out. They'll be making daily reports to their superiors. I might check in, but my current duties are running the containment line. As for what steps we're taking against Volair..." He looks towards Mika. "That information is classified." Renkek Kashaan nods to Marlan "Understood Captain." he listens to the rest for now. "Da. Efforts will be concntrated here in New Alhira. The reality is we need to form a foundation before we can be of any use in assisting other affected areas. New Alhira as a controlled environment ist he best play to get that foundation in place, da." She moves her gaze to the standing Boomer, "There's no containment in this area. You need to use the restroom, you head to the ship." she directs. "But ithink...unless someone has something else that we're all done here, da." "Very good," says Cruyer through his suit's speaker. "Let's see what we can do to help these people, hmmm?" He drops his datapad and his manual into his plastic bag and stands. From behind the reflective visor, Mika eyeballs the Athenaut pumpkin. "Only thing I'd bloody 'xpect YOU t'chase is'n ice cream truck," she retorts. To Silvereye, however, she merely nods her bucket-topped head. "Nah, mate. Wasn't askin' fer details, bollocks, jus' bringin' a concern t'th' table'n all, wot?" she assures him before asking of everyone present, "s'th' bes' way t'um... y'know... decontaminate our blinkin' ship?" Boomer isn't waiting for the others, obviously, darting for the door. So focused on his personal torments, he doesn't even bother responding to Mika's taunt, simply darting to the door. For a fat man in a big, clunky biohazard suit he makes good time. Until he gets to the door, where he trips, tumbles, falls, and sprawls face down at the door. This event may startle those just coming through the door. Silvereye is about to speak when there is a beep from his datapadd. The Longclaw takes a moment to analyze it before rising. "I've just received your authorization. Thank you for your time and I look forward to working with you in the days to come." He pauses, looking around once again. "Do you think we have a chance with this?" The Demarian's professional demeanor slips as he issues the spontaneous question, revealing some of the anxiety beneath. He doesn't even blink for Boomer. Voliarin is near the back, listening as the meeting goes on with a dark green aura about him. Pavlo comes into the hosptial decked out in a biohazard suit, having been dropped off by a PHS volunteer driving a buggy. The boy looks down at the man who just tripped in front of him and laughs. The key question should probably be - who arranged for a kid size suit? Marlan takes a step towards the door, "oh Hoop! Boomer you alright?" she asks. After a brief pause, the penny drops. "Hold on a moment... your ship is contaminated?" asks Cruyer of Mika, stopping in his tracks. "Did you mention that earlier?" Kastaprulyi seems not quite so lucky with its biohazard suit, making do with one for a small adult Centauran that is cinched at the sleeves. The little Centauran follows Pavlo in, coming to an abrupt startled stop as another of its crewmates lands on the floor. "I was outside when th' 'xplosion 'ccurred," Mika replies to Cruyer from where she sits at the table in her clumsy ol' worksuit. "Ranix over there said't was airborne. So yeah, bollocks, s'a mighty good chance that me'n m'crew 'ere are contaminated, bollocks." "Fine." Boomer notes, struggling to his feet. Dust off his shoulder, pushing away some excess carpet stuff. "I'll be going this way now. Bye." The fat man nods at his two crewmates near the door, red-faced, sliding out the door. Marlan watches Boomer leave and shakes her head, turning towards Silvereye, "As for your answer. Of course we will, da. We've already beaten TRV once, da. It'll take some time but we'll find a way to cure this." Marlan assures him. Silvereye shakes his head while watching Boomer, sighing nervously as he gathers up his datapadd and slips it into his jacket. "I haven't eaten anything today." He declares with a hint of wonder. "If anyone needs me I'll be grabbing a bite." The Longclaw pauses, looking at the assembled suits. "I'm sorry. You can't really eat here, can you?" Kastaprulyi suggests a puzzled farewell to Boomer, saying aloud, "Be well..." Kas rises a bit higher than usual and circles around to float beside Pavlo's shoulder. Cruyer looks to Marlan. "Captain, that freighter captain... the one with the working class accent, what's-her-name, says her ship is contaminated. Apart from the obvious, is that a problem?" he asks. "I mean... there's no way to decontaminate it, is there?" Marlan is about to answer Silvereyes when Cruyer speaks. She turns to him, tone turning professional once more, "Negative. Not until we have a beter idea what we're dealing with. As long as they remain in containment suits they wont become contaminated if they'r not already and they wont' be contaminating anyone else. Pavlo tromps his way over towards Marlan and the other grownups grinning up at them through the visor, "Anyfink are needing me to do Marly?" The boy asks. ---- Continued in Public_health_part_II 1r